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Archives for May 2017

Meet Lauran Arledge

Lauran Arledge is a Colorado native who started her career as high school social studies teacher in Wilmington, North Carolina.

A recent speaker at Point of Departure, Lauran has spent the past 15 years taking her love of education and leadership development into the realms of public health, violence prevention, community organizing, coaching, and organizational development.

Here we talk about making social studies sing, the unheralded power of WWI, and how people never really grow up.


I’m curious to hear how you got into teaching social studies because I had an influential social studies teacher in seventh grade, Mrs. Herring.

Nice! I hope somebody is saying that about me somewhere in the universe. I had my undergrad in political science and women’s studies. I was looking at graduate programs and I was at a crossroads: do I want to go into academia or do I want to go into something else? I eventually made the decision that I wanted to go into education. I come from a family of teachers, social workers and public servants.

I was passionate about teaching social studies by focusing on social justice and highlighting parts of history that aren’t well known. I’m just a history geek! When I taught about the writing of the U.S. Constitution, I would get so excited that my kids would always laugh at me. They were just like, “Wow, you really like this stuff!”

When I was young, social studies seemed nebulous or gauzy. It was very clear what math, science, and other subjects were. It’s important to find something that hooks kids and helps them understand what social studies really means.

That is important. Timelines are hard for kids. It’s hard to understand what life was like 150 years ago and as you go further back it gets even hazier.

Do you have a favorite era to teach?

I love teaching the turn of the century through the end of World War II. For me that is where it gets really exciting and it’s recent enough that people can wrap their heads around the timeline. World War I and World War II were so pivotal the course of history.

I feel like World War I doesn’t really get its dues either. There are so many movies and gut-wrenching dramas about World War II.

Definitely. I used to teach assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand as a dramatic story, highlighting how many things almost went wrong and the kids would be like, “Wait, what?” When you present it that way they think it’s amazing.

Then there’s the Christmas Truce of 1914, where soldiers from both trenches came out and played soccer and hung out, right?

Yes! That’s another part of World War I that doesn’t get its dues. There was so much hand-to-hand combat in WWI. You could hear the enemy in the trenches next to you, talking and playing cards, and you’d quickly realize that they are nineteen-year-old kids just like you! The amount of trauma soldiers endured in World War II was similar, but there was more detachment.

You’ve worked leadership training roles across many fields. What are the similarities?

The problems that organizations face are generally the same: it’s egos, miscommunication, and priorities being out of whack. I get jazzed about using sociology to understand how people work together.

Is it easier to get a large group of kids to do something or a large group of corporate employees to do something?

It is so funny that you say that. I recently worked with my senior leadership team on a new leadership program. One of the curricula we use comes with a plastic blow-up beach ball. My colleagues immediately opened up the packages, blew up the balls, and started whapping them at each other. And I thought, “Yeah, that’s exactly what my ninth graders would have done.”

So we don’t change that much as we get older?

No, we don’t. People always ask me, “Is it easier teaching students or adults?” I always tell them, “It’s pretty much the same.”

Do you have a favorite TED Talk?

Everyone I teach knows that I love TED Talks and watch them all the time. Perhaps it iscliché at this point, but I love Brené Brown’s TED Talk on vulnerability. Another talk that found really interesting was Monica Lewinsky talking about what happened to her as a young woman and the public shame that she endured. I just thought that it was incredibly brave of her to do the talk.

The brutality of the situation from her perspective is usually overlooked.

Oh yeah, and you really get the sense that she was just this young kid. How many of us would like to have the most embarrassing moment from our 20s broadcast around the world? There were obviously different repercussions for her than there were for the president involved. I really admired her for stepping on that stage and talking about that.

Meet Arielle Hein

Arielle Hein is an artist, technologist, and educator entrenched in the worlds of interaction design and conceptual art.

A recent speaker at Point of Departure, Arielle explores the intricate relationships between technology and our human experience. As an instructor at the College of Engineering & Applied Sciences at CU Boulder, she’s passionate about empowering students to use technology as a tool and creating learning environments that encourage diversity, accessibility, and connectivity.

Here we talk about the difference between architecture and computer programming, the excitement that comes with experience design, and staying optimistic in the face of overwhelming developments in technology.


How did you initially become interested in technology?

I have always had an affinity for visual design and designing experiences and spaces, and started my career studying architecture. When I was in college I took a class where we learned how to program using a language called Processing. The intention of Processing is to make programing accessible for artists, designers, and beginners—so you can build something right out of the box without having a computer science degree. Learning how to program just blew my mind open to the potential possibilities.

Programming is most often a shorter path to a deliverable than working as an architect. Plus, the rules are a little different: there are more rules in the real world than there are in the virtual world, so you have more freedom.

Totally! I work both in hardware and software—sort of across the board—but gaining experience with software was really interesting for me. Prototyping ideas, being able to make things really quickly, and sort of trying things out, this was all liberating. I came from a background making tangible things and that takes a long time, so you had to be clear about what your idea is and why you are using a certain material. With software I can prototype something really quickly, try it out, not feel attached to it, and move on to the next thing. That’s a big part of creative technology.

And did I hear you say that part of your interest in architecture was designing experiences people can have in a spaces?

Absolutely, and that’s this common thread through everything I do. It really starts with the perspective of the human experience, and what it means to be somebody who’s in a certain space or who’s engaged in a certain experience or with a certain kind of technology. I think everything I do comes back to, “What does it feel like?”

Well, you’re in a thrilling field because it’s not totally clear how people will be interacting with technology five years from now.

Totally. It’s also a way for me to keep myself in the equation and trust in my own experience. I think that’s why a lot of my work falls into this realm of art, where I am not always making something for somebody else. There’s this kind of interesting play between your experience and successfully creating that experience for somebody else.

So how does your day job contrast with the artistic side of what you do?

I am really very fortunate in my day job teaching at CU. There’s a program in the engineering school focused on creative technology and reimagining how we engage with technology and what we make with it. I teach everything that I am exploring, and it’s exciting to work with students who, prior to this, had to choose between computer science, mechanical engineering, or electrical engineering. Those disciplines are traditionally very narrow and focused, and there’s not a lot of opportunity to make creative work. It is really cliché to say, but teaching something is really the best way to learn it yourself.

Our team was just at TEDFest in Brooklyn, where we watched streaming talks from the TED conference in Vancouver. A number of them were focused on the way technology—and artificial intelligence (AI) in particular—will impact our lives. How do you see the role of design changing as we start communicating with machines using our voices rather than relying on images on a screen?

That is a really great question. This is something that I think about a lot, especially being in the emerging field of creative technology. How do you imagine what the full experience is for somebody, the interaction, and the feeling they take away? You still need the computer scientists to write the code. You still need the electrical engineer to build the hardware. I think the role of the designer becomes a person who is fluent in interfacing with each of those elements and maintaining a vision for what the experience is. It’s interesting just how much we’ve had to adjust to new technologies in our lives.

The questions I always come back to are, “What does this mean for our human experience?” “How does it change the way we communicate?” and “How does it change our relationships with the people in our lives?” I think it’s important to not just blindly accept new technology. You have to ask a lot of questions and get to the core of how technology changes our experience. I feel really fortunate to be in an academic setting where a lot of those questions are being asked.

A number of the TED talks pointed to a future where the robots outsmart us, kind of like the Terminator scenario. Do you think we’re headed to a point where we’ll be outsmarted by our creations and enslaved or do you see it as more of a cooperative relationship that’s emerging?

Well, my personality is always on the side of optimism. I kind of see this magic and opportunity in it all. I like to think of it as more of a cooperative experience. I have this faith in the uniqueness of the human experience that will continue to carry us forward. Of course, that relies on spending time asking the right questions. It comes down to having intention and thinking about why are we introducing certain technologies into our lives. In the case of AI, what is it bringing us that is different from something we had before and how is it adding value?

Do you have a favorite TED talk you use in your classes?

There are a lot of examples, but I think my favorite one is “How schools kill creativity” by Ken Robinson. He talks about how in the traditional education system we’re educating students out of creativity by cultivating these subject matters in math, science, and writing that some people don’t fit into. I never fit into what was being taught and I’ve really pursued a different kind of path for myself.

That makes sense given what you were saying about the courses that you’re teaching. They fit more into the mold of what you would prefer to be taught.

Yes, and I feel grateful and fortunate to be in the role that I am in because I wish that I had something like this kind of program myself. I found it on this really winding difficult path, but it’s cool to help make that easier for others.

Meet Alejandro Jimenez

Machismo hurts men, too

What assumptions do we make about others based on their gender or ethnicity? When Alejandro Jimenez first learned about the Hispanic stereotype of machismo, he was shocked. Was he doomed to a life of rage and aggression? In this inspiring talk and poem, he explores what it means to forge your own identity.

BIO

Alejandro Jimenez is a poet, educator, and long-distance runner from Colima, Mexico. As the first member of his family to graduate from college, he moved to Denver in 2009 to organize for immigrant rights.

A recent performer at Point of Departure, Alejandro helps lead an after-school program for high school students in North Denver. In 2011 he became the first Latino to win the Su Barrio Slam Poetry Competition. The following year he was a member of the SlamNUBA! poetry team that placed 5th at the National Poetry Slam Competition.

Here, we talk about life in Mexico, long conversations with grandmothers, and the power storytelling.


When did you realize that you were a poet?

When I was four or five, I remember getting tin cans and pots from the local dumpster and arranging them in an empty pig pen so I could bang on them. I would sing whatever song was popular at the time. Whenever people ask me when I knew that I liked writing, I think of that story.

Then in school they had us memorize all these little poems and I always liked that part of school. I still struggle to say, “Hey, I’m a poet. I’m a writer.” but I think I’ve always known. I really found myself as a writer five years ago when I joined SlamNUBA.

Do you write in Spanish and English?

I write in both. For performance poetry, I’m more comfortable writing in English, because that’s how I was introduced to it. I write a lot of poems and short stories in Spanish as well.

Do the different languages have advantages and disadvantages in terms of expressing ideas?

Yeah. In Spanish it’s a lot easier because there are so many more variations on words. I can describe a chair in 18 different ways using the same word, by changing the inflection or the ending. English is very rigid. It’s my second language as well, so a lot of times I don’t know the right word.

Do you view your art form as both a vehicle for self expression and a political tool?

The first answer that always comes to mind is “I’m not supposed to be here.” I’m a brown man from Mexico whose ancestors were persecuted by Spanish colonizers. So the fact that I speak every day is an act of resistance. The fact that I write poetry is an act of resistance.

The second answer is that when I first started writing poetry it was out of anger. I didn’t feel heard in high school or college. Then I read a poem at a festival in Oregon about growing up and learning English in the third grade and how it wasn’t the best experience. After the show a lady come up to me. She was in her 60s, using a cane, and she said, “Hey I just wanted to tell you that story you wrote about, that’s exactly what happened to me 40 years ago, when I was the only brown kid in school.” That’s been one of the most powerful interactions I’ve ever had with someone because of my poetry. That’s when I realized that this is something bigger than just me being angry, or sad, or just wanting to see change. It helped me come to terms with being a writer and a poet. It helped me realize that I have this gift and I should feel comfortable in it.

What’s it like in Colima, where you grew up?

Colima is a small state in Western Mexico. The big city there on the coast is Manzanillo, but I grew up in the mountains, right next to a volcano. You could be at the base of the volcano and drive maybe an hour and get to the beach. It was a pretty cool place to grow up.

When did you leave there for America?

I left Mexico when I was eight years old—so 22 years ago this November. My mom came first, so I lived with my grandma for the first eight years of my life. The first images I have of my mom are of me running away from her, because I didn’t know her.

You want to put your family in the best position possible to be successful—to have the opportunities you may not have had in Mexico, or wherever you’re coming from—but that always comes at a cost. Some of my aunts and uncles haven’t been together in the same place for 35 years.

Have you been able to go back to Colima?

I was undocumented when I came here, but now I have my green card so I’m able to go back. My town is like 500 people, up in the mountains. It’s really cool to go back and walk on the streets and see the fields. The first time I went back I was 18 or 19 and so many memories from my childhood came back.

When I’ve been to Mexico, I’ve noticed that people seem happier there.

Yeah, I mean I’m happier there. I’m definitely biased, but I think the style of life down there is a lot slower. You spend a lot of time just hanging out. You can work, but you’re not going to get out of your economic situation.

My girlfriend and I went to Mexico three years ago. She’s from America and I told her, “A lot of the time we’re going to spend just hanging out, sitting with my grandma and not doing anything other than talking.” I grew up like that—when you have nothing to do you just hang out with your family and talk and tell stories and gossip. Whereas in America, we’re just “go-go-go, time is money,” that kind of stuff. We were there for two months and my girlfriend really misses it—slowing down and taking the time to relax and be present. Just enjoying whatever it is, like drinking coconut water from an actual coconut and listening to the rain.

I sometimes forget just how big Mexico is.

Mexico is so big and so, so diverse. There are still over 20 indigenous languages spoken in Mexico and there are so many indigenous groups still there.

I remember touring the Tulum Ruins and learning that the Mayan culture put a really high premium on their elders. I don’t feel like we always do a good job of that in America, especially as we rely more and more on technology for information from the past. Spending hours talking to your grandmother sounds like a great thing.

I was lucky enough that I also met two of my great grandmas and talked to them into my teens and early twenties before they passed away. They had so many stories. I would just sit down and ask them, you know, “When was your first kiss?” “When was the first time you got drunk?” “When was the first time you did this or that?”

One of my grandmas loved to sing so I would ask her to sing me the songs she liked when she was 12 years old. I got to ask what it was like raising 20 children in rural Mexico. I got to ask them, “How was it?” “How did you give birth?” ‘Did you go to a hospital?” I feel like we’re the last generation that will have that experience.

Where did your family settle in America ?

We first settled in Oregon in the Hood River Valley. So we moved from one volcano to another. We worked on orchards—cherries, apples, pears. My first summer here, when I was going into 4th grade, I remember going with my father to pick cherries at four in the morning. He was babysitting me because my mom was also working and we couldn’t afford childcare.

What brought you to Colorado?

Work. I’ve been here eight years. Growing up undocumented, I always had this fear of being deported, and I still do. I have my green card but that doesn’t really guarantee you anything, especially now. I had heard about the Swift immigration raids in 2006 in Greeley. I was in college at the time reading about this and thinking, “Who’s helping these people?” In college I really got exposed to community organizing. When I graduated in 2009 I saw that there was a community organizing job here in Denver. I’ve been here ever since, working with the community.

Do you have a favorite TED talk or performance?

Yes. It’s by Mark Gonzales, he’s a poet, activist writer, thinker, philosopher. He did a talk at TEDxForestRidgeSchool about using storytelling to prevent suicide—about the fact that storytelling can have the power to save lives. His talk is really powerful. It’s about how to heal the self and the collective.

A lot of research is coming out now that suggests if your parents went through a traumatic event you’re still feeling that as a child, and even their grandchildren and great-grandchildren might feel it as well. How can we be mindful and address trauma in a way that people feel comfortable with? Storytelling is always there. Words are medicine in a lot of ways.

Meet Madison Krall

Madison Krall is a twenty-something student of health and medicine at CU Denver, where her research focuses on the public discourse surrounding women’s health.

A recent speaker at Point of Departure, when she’s not studying, she loves finding ways to incorporate wine and cheese into every meal. As a proud Christian feminist, Madison adamantly believes we live in a world where people are inherently good. She will be starting her PhD in communication studies this fall at the University of Utah.

Here we talk about competitive swimming, the power of coaching, and what it means to sonder.


You were an undergrad at Pepperdine in Malibu, right?

Yes. I actually grew up swimming, and when I was looking at schools it was academics first, but naturally swimming came next. I always thought I would end up on the east coast at a small liberal arts college, and then Pepperdine came into the mix. It’s a Division 1 institution and they offered me some scholarship money to swim so that kind of made my decision for me.

What did you study there?

I studied psychology and minored in English literature. It was great!

Sounds like you’ll be in school for a while. Do you have an end goal in mind?

I have known for a while that I want to work in education, I actually coached swimming during my undergraduate time at Pepperdine. I really like working with college students, so the end goal, the ultimate dream, would be to find a tenure track position, ideally in a place like Colorado where I can teach and do research. The service component is also important, so I’m looking for an institution with a diverse student body where social justice is emphasized, while still prioritizing an academic focus.

I’m intrigued by your swimming scholarship because I have two boys who have been swimming since they were young. They’re into a lot of different sports, but I always try to remind them that swimming is something you can do forever, maybe not competitively, but for a long time.

Yeah. At the 2012 Olympics Dara Torres swam the 50-meter freestyle at the age of 50. She is incredible. I wouldn’t be surprised if down the road people come back later in the their careers. Michael Phelps is only in his thirties..

I’ve heard from friends who are educators that swimmers tend to be very together, in terms of staying out of trouble and having clear priorities.

I’ve definitely heard that before. You have to be really disciplined. If I truly thought about how many hours I’ve put into my schoolwork and my swimming, it would probably be pretty similar. There were a lot of mornings when I was up at 5:30. I was in the pool for two hours and spent an hour in the gym most afternoons, then was at the pool for another two hours in the evening. It takes a lot of time.

I was intimidated by team sports growing up, so I spent a lot of time skateboarding, which is sort of you against yourself. I feel like there is a strong element of that in swimming, but you can also get that team experience.

I agree, it’s the perfect balance. Swimming gave me a lot—there is no denying that. But I think that through leaving swimming and finding coaching I realized I could pursue other passions. That definitely led me to discovering I liked running and paddle boarding. I also really love school. I’m a huge nerd when it comes to school.

What was the transition from being an athlete to a coach like?

It was really fun, but I did come up against a few hurdles. I had a very supportive coaching staff that really helped me figure out what makes a good swimming coach. It was helpful to develop relationships with my swimmers and for them to recognize that I could help them achieve their goals.

Were you able to bring some of the things you are learning from psychology courses into the coaching realm?

Yes, particularly with women, because the rest of the coaching staff were men. I was thinking a lot about how to implement positive mental health, particularly when it might come to anxiety in school, or concerns with relationships, whether they be a significant other, or with friends. You hear about drama happening, and that exists for the entirety of our lives. In college it can be really detrimental to your mental health if you’re not welcomed by the group or if you have other struggles. Being the female staff member who was able to talk to both the male and female swimmers about the things that they might be struggling with made me grateful for my psychology background.

Do you have a favorite TED Talk?

I teach a presentational speaking class, “Fundamentals of Communication in Business, and Professional Speaking,” and I use TED talks a lot. Ann Cuddy’s talk on nonverbals we use in our nonverbal communication course. I love Amy Adele Hasinoff’s talk on sexting, because of our relationship through CU Denver.

I really like John Koenig’s talk “Beautiful New Words to Describe Obscure Emotions” from TEDxBerkeley. I love etymology. I love that he finds emotions people are experiencing where they don’t have a label and gives words to those. For example, he created the word “sonder” and he talked about how odd it is to see people using his word out in the world. People are grateful to have a name that they can put to an emotion they have been experiencing that didn’t already have a name.

What does it mean to sonder? I’m picturing someone sauntering while pondering.

Sonder is the feeling of getting what you wanted for a long time or the dread of getting what you’ve always wanted. He uses other languages too and brings up words we don’t have in the Western vernacular. He asks questions like “Why do they have this word in the Chinese language, but we don’t have an equivalent?” People are able to use these beautiful new words to better understand what they are feeling.

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